


Mele Kalikimaka

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Humor, K/S Advent Calendar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock spend a warm afternoon, during the christmas season enjoying shore leave, lazing on the beach in Lahaina, Maui, Hawaii, Earth.<br/>Tropes: Christmas!fic, shore leave, humor<br/>Written for: K/S Advent 2013</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mele Kalikimaka

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Thanks to Ivycross! All errors are my own.

  
 

MELE KALIKIMAKA (MERRY CHRISTMAS)

 

_“Let me say to you_

_from the land where palm trees sway_

_Mele Kalikimaka_

_it’s Hawaii’s way to say_

_Merry Christmas to you!”_

_\--Don Ho_

 Whoever dreams of a ‘white christmas’ should have their head examined. Who wants freezing snow?  In fact that song ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas’ should be re-written: ‘I’m dreaming of a warm, sandy, delicious Christmas with Commander Spock right here on this private beach on the Hawaiian Island of Maui.  Don Ho’s Christmas album on the loudspeaker, sunbathing nude, sun is so toasty warm, feels so good on my skin and oh god I’m getting’--

“Jim,” Spock says.  “You are tumid... again.”

Jim props himself up on his elbows, staring down at the fleshy pink appendage.  It’s now proud, firm, resting on his belly, unencumbered by clothing--yes he’s as naked as the day he was born.  He’s reclining on a huge fluffy, stripy terry cloth beach towel amidst sparkly yellow sun baked sand.  Looking up, there’s clear blue sky, looking out there’s the sound of waves hitting the beach and the stunning Pacific ocean as far as the eye can see (except for another island in the far distance).  Jim adjusts his hips.  The warm, buzzing cock brushes against himself.  Continuing to gaze at his own majestic length and knowing Spock is also checking it out, is only making him even more tingly, harder.  “I could have told you that, Spock.”

“Don Ho?”

“Yeah, I dunno, something about that guy’s sultry, baritone voice.  And of course the delicious sight of you, my handsome vulcan, lying naked next to me.  Drives me wild.”

“Understandable,” Spock deadpans.

“Well, good.  I’m glad you do understand.” 

Jim glances over at the Vulcan.  Who is...not tumid. Not at all.  That generous, thick green tinged cock, with those double ridges, and accompanying hefty testicles.  The whole package topped off by a mound of black pubic hair, is soft, floppy, relaxed.  They’d been fucking all week like bunny rabbits but not today.  Apparently today, Spock’s dick is on shore leave, too.   Jim has to admit he’s disappointed.  “You’re not hard,” he finds himself reporting.

“No, I am not.”

“Oh....” Jim grimaces. “Hmph.”

“Don Ho does not arouse me.”

“I didn’t say listening to Don Ho’s Christmas Album was the only thing that was turning me on.  It’s YOU too, lying on your towel all green and gorgeous and naked, working on your tan.”

“Vulcans do not tan.”

Jim flops down, sighing.  “Good work, Spock.  I’m losing my boner, how ‘bout that.”

After a few moments, Spock leans over to study him.  “The erection does not appear to be abating.  Should I turn off Don Ho?”

“Do that and I’ll be looking for a new first officer.  You’ll be spending your days in the brig.  Maybe I’ll even bust you down to cadet.”

Spock appears to scoff but says nothing.  

Jim closes his eyes in disgust.  “I’m taking a nap.  All this warm sun is getting to me.”  And maybe his cock will go down in the meantime.

“ _If your lonely, this Christmas_

 _Despondent, this Christmas..._ ”

Mmmm.   Don Ho.  

Stop thinking about Don Ho, or else you’ll never go down.  Especially since nobody...hint hint hint...nobody in the immediate vicinity seems willing to help give James T. Kirk a much needed sexual release.  Should grab onto his own penis, start stroking like his life depended on it, rub his cum all over himself, how would the pain in the ass first officer like to see that?  Yeah masturbation, right out in the open, salty air.  Mmmm.  

Nah, can’t be bothered.

Well.  Maybe Spock should shut off Don Ho’s Christmas Album.  Probably would be best.  All for the best.

Just as he was about to reluctantly ask Spock to cut the music, he feels hot suction on the head his cock.  

He gasps and opens his eyes.  Spock is kneeling down next to him, hunched over, those beautiful lips wrapped around Jim’s pink organ.  Sucking away.  Green tongue twirling around the tip, then underneath the head (the most sensitive part), then the mouth taking in his entire length.  Down that vulcan throat.  Spock repeats the motions again and again and again.  The sight and the sensation of Spock’s mouth around his cock is simply exhilarating.  

“Oh...” Jim moans as he reaches down to caress the silky black hair, touch those pointed ear tips.  “Oh...feels so good, Spock....”  He’s close, already.

And when Don Ho sings (in those dulcet tones):

“ _Silver Bells, Silver Bells_

_It’s Christmas time in the city...”_

He comes, the orgasm ripping out of him.  He empties his load into Spock’s mouth. 

Spock swallows every drop.  Some is smeared onto his lips,  Jim watches, entranced, smirking, as Spock wipes it, then sucks on his own fingers.

“I did not just witness a goddamned sex act, I did not just witness a goddamned sex act.  Jesus Christ. My virgin eyes.  I’m gonna have to dig into my medical bag and find my fucking scalpel and slice my goddamned eyeballs out--”

Oh oh.  

They both turn their heads to witness the approaching, glaring, bitching form of Dr. McCoy.  Bones, now standing over them, is clad in a frilly white apron, blue eyes broadcasting the multitude of curses that haven’t reached his lips yet.  What’s worse is he’s now blocking the view of the ocean.  However, he is holding a silver tray on his arm containing two drinks, umbrellas stuck into them.  

Jim and Spock both quickly grab additional towels to hide their nakedness.

“I don’t know why you’re botherin’ covering up now,” Bones spits out in that unmistakable drawl.  “Cept I better not have to treat a sunburned dick in my sickbay or have to flush out sand in somebody’s urethra or rectum.”

“Oh look, Spock,” Jim replies, smirking.  “Our cabana boy made us a couple of festive drinks.”

“Refreshing,” Spock agrees.

Bones wrinkles up his nose at the music.  “Is that...Don Ho?  Now I have to slice my ears off, too.”

“When’s dinner, Cabana boy?” Jim asks.

“Whenever I fucking feel like fixing it.”  Bones warily inches himself closer.  He reaches over by the palm tree, drags out a small table with his foot, then slams each drink down on their respective sides, the liquid sloshing ever so slightly.  “Here’s your fucking altair water and bourbon on the fucking rocks, as you requested.  Gentlemen.”

“Thank you, Cabana Boy.”

“Stop calling me ‘Cabana Boy’ or I’m putting something in your food to give you diarrhea for the rest of your shore leave.   I should anyway, make you as miserable as you’re making me.”

“Oh, Bones, don’t tell me you’re having a lousy shore leave.”

“This is the worst fucking Christmas shore leave ever.  Ever.  This is worse than that time I briefly reconciled with Jocelyn.  I didn’t even get laid, but everybody else did.  Kinda like now.”

“You got ‘leied’ Bones.  When we got off the shuttlecraft a week ago, remember?  We all got leis around our necks.”

“Oh, har de har, Captain,” Bones hisses.  He spins around and stalks off a metre or two.  

Jim gapes at the view in shock.  “Bones.”

Bones halts and turns back around.  “Yeah?”

“You’re mooning us.”

“Am I?” Those blue eyes develop a devilish glint.

“You know, Bones, cabana boys usually wear speedos or in your case swim trunks.  You’ve got absolutely nothing on besides that apron.  Why?”

“Got tired of wearin’ ‘em.  Figured... if I have to stare at your naked ass, and the naked ass of your first officer, I can show you mine.  In fact--oh look I just dropped my tray!”  Bones chucks it onto the sand.  “Ah shit, now I’m gonna have to pick it up.”  He bends over and shows off his balls. 

“Bones!”

“The doctor might as well walk around nude as we are,” Spock says, entirely too unconcerned about this travesty.  “This is a private beach.”  

“No,” Jim pleads, then throws a glare Spock’s way.  “This is bad enough.”

Bones picks up that tray and finally straightens up.  “I’d show off my main physical attribute, but I’m not allowed to make the captain jealous.”

“You wish, Bones.  I’m hungry.  Go cook us some dinner.”  After a beat he adds: “Please.”

“It’s called supper.”

“To be precise-- in Hawaii-- Jim, Doctor,” Spock says, unhelpfully, “it is known as a luau.”

“Whatever," Jim replies.  "Bones, go.  I don’t want to see that bare ass ever again.”

“Jim,” Spock whispers and shakes his head.  

“S’alright Spock,” Bones replies.  “I’m goin’.  Back to my cabana.  Where I belong.  Slaving over a hot fire pit so you two can enjoy your shore leave.” He turns around, smacking his ass with his hand as he walks off.

“Bones!” Jim bellows out. 

Bones of course flips him off.

“Do I have time for a nap before dinner, Bones?”

“Be ready in an hour, Jim,” Bones calls back. Still flipping him the bird. 

They watch the man’s full moon until he disappears into the cabana.

“Fascinating,” Spock says.

Jim reaches over, grabs his drink and takes a long sip.  “Ummm.  Tasty.  I love winning a bet.”  

Spock picks up his own drink, studying the drink umbrella and raising an eyebrow.  “Bet?”

“Yeah, a bet is a--”

“I know what a bet is, Jim.  What did you and Dr. McCoy bet on?”

“The University of Mississippi, Iowa State game.”

“What sort of game?”

“Football, Spock.” Jim mimes throwing a pass.  “On Thanksgiving, Bones erroneously thought Ol’ Miss was gonna kick our ass.  Ha ha ha ha.”

“Our?”  

“Iowa State University.”

“Jim, you never attended Iowa State University.”

“Doesn’t matter.  It’s about home pride.  Say there was a Vulcan Science Academy football team and I know you never attended the Science Academy, but if they played an Earth Team--maybe the Earth All Star Football College team or the Earth Football League or something like that--”

“Vulcans do not play football.”

“I knew you were gonna say that and maybe they should, you’d probably be outstanding at it-- but the point I’m trying to make here, is that you root for the home team, no matter what.  However, Bones actually went to Ol’ Miss--”

“Ol Miss?”

“It’s what they call the Uni--never mind.  Anyway, our wager on the football game was that whoever lost would...be... uh....uh....”

“Would be forced into service as the winner’s ‘cabana boy’ on the next shore leave,” Spock replies.

“No!” Jim protests.  “Alright.  Yes.  I knew we were going to Hawaii for Christmas and uh....”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah.”

“What if the doctor had won the bet?”

“Pffft,” Jim scoffs.  “Not gonna happen anytime soon.  Not the way Ol’ Miss is playing lately.”

“Do you often do this--betting on football games?”

“No.  Just on Thanksgiving and that time both teams played the Rose Bowl and the Sugar Bowl and the Fiesta Bowl and the--”

“I see.”  Jim suspects the Vulcan actually doesn’t see, but just wants to shut him up.“Jim, I must admit he looks almost adorable, in nothing but an apron--were I to use the Earth vernacular, to describe the good doctor.”

“I suppose.  But not as adorable as I am.  That flat, hairy ass?  Look at my ass,” Jim flips over and shows it off, rubbing it for Spock’s visual benefit.  “Nice and round, plump and perky and smooth.  Right Spock?”

“Affirmative, Jim.  You do have rather smooth, round buttocks.”

“Um, hum.  Sure do.”  Jim glances over and notices the Vulcan’s now very erect cock.  “Well, well.  Look who joined the party.”

Spock looks down.  “Must be due to the music of Don Ho.”

Jim snickers.  “Don Ho.”  He comes over and straddles Spock’s waist.  “What do you wanna do?  Got an hour to play.  Want a blow job?  Or do you wanna fuck me right here on the sand?  Up to you, baby.”

“Do we have lubricant handy?”

Jim reaches over and picks up a bottle.  “Never go anyplace without it.”  He hands it over, spins around onto all fours, inviting his ass up to Spock.  

\-----

McCoy glances out of the cabana window and sighs at the view.  “Oh God.  I’m in hell.”

END

 

"Bones the Reluctant Cabana Boy"

Art by tprillahfiction

 

 

 

 


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